


Sea Foam

by toesohnoes



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She visits him at midnight, when the sea is black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sea Foam

He was a young man, once. She was never a young woman.

As eternal as the world itself, he can't take his eyes off of her, can't stop watching, would never want to. Her hips sway like waves as she dances before him, her eyes as dark as the night itself. Her hands twirl to a beat he can't hear, nothing but the rush of the ocean around them and the bobbing of the ship.

"Davy," she whispers, throwing his name into the wind. "Davy Jones."

He wants to say her name - he can't. She _can't be._

Her lips part and then she flows towards him, walking smoothly like the wind. "Do you want to touch me?" she asks.

And she knows. The wind whistles through his bones and the sea sprays against his face and he has never wanted anything more than he wants to feel her skin beneath his palms.

She slides forward until he can feel the push of her breasts against his chest and he can smell the salt of her breath. She looks up at him with an inky grin. "Davy," she croons, placing her head against him.

Carefully, he wraps his arms around her and captures the changing sea.

She has more power than any pirate could squabble over, but in his arms she feels like naught but a girl, just an innocent woman to be protected - no common whore, no country wife, but a woman with her head held high, so easily crushed. "Der's more to me than meets the eye," she warns him, swaying back and forth to music he can't hear; he moves anyway, feeling the waves. "I'm no fishwife, Mr Jones."

"Aye," he agrees. She's in his head, his mouth, his lungs, everywhere the water reaches. She knows his thoughts. "You're more than that, Calypso."

She kisses him at the sound of her name, drowning him in herself as her hands roam over him, as her body pushes against his own.

She takes a step back and pushes the straps of her dress from her shoulders. With a stern wriggle, it falls to the ground and she steps free with bare feet; the nudity looks better on her than any clothing could, more natural, as the moon shines on her curves.

"Why don't you take me, Davy?" she says, and the sound of his name continues like a siren's call. "Make me feel like one of your womans."

He could tell her that he hasn't been with another soul since he first saw the moon shine on her face - but there would be no point, no reason. She knows that. She knows everything.

Instead he takes her against the mast of the ship and listens to her lost laughter as they chase their climax; the sun will come up and she will vanish into foam, but she will be back.

She will return to him.

She always, _always_ does.


End file.
